Panem, a History
by Ariadne's Folly
Summary: What travesty created the nation of Panem? And what were the circumstances surrounding the original Dark Days? An examination of the early years of Panem, and the first Revolt.  Mostly new chars, probable femslash, some chaps pre Rocket, lots pre Mags
1. Prologue

**Panem, a History**

**_Author's Note:_ **_Hunger Games, Panem, and any of their associated characters belong to Suzanne Collins, any references to Sucker Punch or associated characters are property of Warner Bros., Zak Snyder and Steve Shibuya._

_For NatureBoy3, because he asked ;)_

_In 1938, German officials began seizing the Jewish born assistants of nuclear scientist Otto Hahn for use in top secret research. Dr. Hahn fought tremendously against this action, but in the end, the Third Reich won out and Otto, believing his assistants to be dead, continued his research alone. The work of these assistants became known as Projekt Unschuld, or Project Innocence, as Hitler planned to use their existing research on nuclear fission to develop the ultimate weapon; a weapon so strong, it would wipe out his unclean enemies, and send the world back to its original, innocent state. _

_In 1941, Projekt Unschuld bore fruit and the lab produced its first fission bomb, code named Mark I, with a yield of 15kt. This weapon sat on the sidelines of the war until the Battle of Stalingrad in 1942, when the 6th Army's victory was delayed by trying to clear the city ruins of insurgents. The end of Summer began, and rather than spend precious time mired in combat as the brutal Soviet Winter set in, Hitler made the decision to unleash Mark I upon the city ruins. The result was immediate and devastating, and further battles with the Red Army were few and finite._

_Eager to exercise his power further, Hitler decided to target the supposed homeland of the Jews, and ordered Unschuld to produce another bomb, its intended target, Israel. Coupled with a duplicate payload of Mark I, Unschuld was commanded to create a bomb with a larger yield (25kt), to be codenamed Weisen (Wise Man), for use on a predetermined, but secret target._

_Mark II and Weisen were scheduled to be released on the same day. The after effects of Mark II are forever lost in the little history that remains, however; the final message the United States received over the transatlantic radio-telephone transmitter, before the tower, and most of the northeast became submerged, was as follows:_

**_Wise Man target has been revealed to be Northern Ice Caps, evacuate to high ground immediately, and God be with you._**


	2. Chapter 1

**1960**

Erin awoke to the gentle swaying motion of her hammock. She cracked open an eyelid to see if any of the other deck hands had risen yet. Finding no one, she luxuriated in a slow and languid stretch, flexing muscles tight from abundant use. Though she disliked being out at sea this long, the tuna boats were Erin's favorite. There was just something exhilirating about venturing out into the deep ocean, wrestling creatures more than twice your size onto the deck, and then presenting the glistening haul to the multitude of appreciative eyes waiting for them back at the District. Tuna was hard, and she loved it.

Today was the last day of the _Sea Witch_'s two week venture, and Erin was eager to see the shoreline again. Finding no suitable reason to delay her day further, she rolled out of her woven nest and let her calloused feet impact the rough wood of the deck. The sun was already bright in the sky, making her squint against the glare reflecting off the water's surface before she snatched up her pair of blue tinted glass spectacles and settled them across the bridge of her nose.

"Up early, I see." Spouted a voice from behind her.

Erin turned to see the youngest of her shipmates, Rafe, strolling across the deck towards her, his easy, rolling gait absorbing the motion of the boat beneath them.

"I'm always up at this time." Erin replied, "Unlike some slug a beds I could name." She teased, wagging a finger at him in mock disapproval.

He stood next to her as he pulled out his own pair of rounded blue shades and put them on. "Oh yes, because I'm always the one sleeping in until noon after a night of too much grog." He lowered the glasses and winked at her over the rims. "Ugh! Rafe, help me up! I think something fell on my head!" He parroted Erin's voice.

"Hey!" She shot back, "It was only that one time, and I'd never drunk the stuff before!"

"Or since." Rafe reminded her.

"If you knew the way my head felt that day, you wouldn't touch the stuff either."

"True, true." Rafe agreed. "So, should we rouse the rest of this jolly crew and see what sea beasties still want to come home with us?"

"Sounds like a plan." Erin replied, before bounding a few feet up the supports of the outrigger and sending the tongue of the attached bell to clamoring.

"Rise and shine, y'all!" She crowed over the din, a wicked smirk appearing as she heard the telltale thuds and swears belowdecks of groggy crewmen readying themselves for the day.

A gravelly voice interrupted the teenagers' play. "My, my, eager as beavers today, aren'tcha?"

"Aye, aye, Cap'n Squid!" Erin and Rafe saluted, but only half seriously.

Sydney Quig had accepted the handle "Squid" after it became evident that not a single deck hand on the west coast could pronounce his name properly, and Captain Squid had worked with a lot of deck hands in his day. In fact, he had been out on a fishing expedition similar to their current excursion, and no older than Erin and Rafe, when the Flooding had struck. He hadn't noticed any differences at first, the waves were rougher than usual, and the wildlife began acting strangely, so much so that they hadn't caught a single fish the last two days of their journey. It wasn't until they arrived at the coordinates that should have been home port that anyone noticed something was amiss. Instead of the bustling harbor, they were met with only open ocean. The captain, thinking the navigator was pulling some sort of prank, bludgeoned the poor lad within an inch of his life. He would have finished him off too, if another crewman hadn't seized the old salt by the wrist and held him fast. A hubbub went up as the lookout spotted something from afar. The captain went back to the helm and steered towards the glint on the horizon.

The normally boisterous voices of the crew while on deck fell to a hush as they were confronted by the half submerged dome of the City Hall building, its gold leaf still resisting the water. San Francisco was lost.

A moment of mourning was given before the captain steered them northward, to search in hopes of finding the nearest surviving city.

They lowered anchor outside a city called Petaluma. No one knew who was more confused, the fisherman, robbed of a proper pier for docking and unloading, or the residents, seeing a fully stocked tuna boat in place of rolling grasslands. The city's inhabitants recovered quickly enough though, after the crew revealed their haul. Food was food, no matter the source, and daily life on land, including such niceties as grocery shopping, had been thrown into chaos since the Flood.

They welcomed the sailors into their homes and the town feasted for a full week, the crew bartering their fish for whatever goods they now needed; and they needed much, since all of their land bound possessions had been destroyed. Soon it became clear that Squid's captain and crew would need a more permanent sort of berth, and the townspeople offered them a spacious two story ranch house, whose previous owners had been out of town during the Flooding and never returned. Their stay was based upon an agreement that they would continue fishing and return to Petaluma to trade.

This arrangement worked out for several months, and eventually other fishing boats located the new coastal city, adding more variety to their single species fish market. More boats brought more chances to work, and it wasn't long before a knot of teenagers plucked up enough courage and asked to be taken aboard the vessels and taught the skills of the trade. This trend continued, with more merchants and tradesmen arriving daily. In came shipwrights, fishmongers, longshoreman, sailors, and others so many and so varied that Petaluma erected a pier and a shipyard, and eventually became a port city in earnest, rather than by accident.

All because an old sea dog decided to sail north on that fateful day, seventeen years ago.

"So, ya scallywags, we're trolling for Bluefin one last time, what's yer first step?" Squid asked them; though he had been born and raised a Californian, adding privateer inflections made deep sea fishing infinitely more entertaining.

"Um..." The two responded in unison, thinking hard as they mentally ran through the list of preparations.

"Outriggers!" Erin blurted out, before her legs caught up to her brain and she dashed across the deck to where the controls were located.

"And...?" The captain asked Rafe, his tone pointed.

"Uhhhhhh," Rafe fumbled, wracking his brain for the answer. Squid kept the pressure on him, until a memory burst forth in epiphany. "Bait!" He took a quick glance at the tanks spread out on the deck, a mixture of live minnows and frozen bait from the hold suspended within the chilled seawater.

He made a move towards the tanks, but the captain held his same expression. "Aye, and what else?"

_What else, what else, what else? _Rafe let loose a snort of frustration until the early morning sun glinted off of a box of their classic glass floats, bound up in tarred rope. "Floats and clips, floats and clips..." He muttered, trying to burn the information into his brain as he grabbed an armload.

"Ready fer cast off, Erin!" Squid bellowed, a smile splitting his sun worn face when she dutifully set the winch into gear and the line dipped into the sea. The pair gained further approval as Rafe set to work clipping on the hollow bobs and bait hooks, both teenagers working together in a steady rhythm.

He nodded his approval as the left the duo to their work. Despite his initial misgivings, the two youths had taken to fishing like...well, like fish to water actually.

Sydney settled into his chair at the helm and thrummed the engines to an acceptable cruising speed. He allowed himself a brief respite before he had to deal with a half dozen overly competitive crewmen trying to outhaul one another as larger and larger tuna came aboard.

He shook his head, thinking of such ridiculousness. _Those old salts never change_, he thought. His attention wandered back towards his young apprentices. The two were grinning ear to ear and shouting encouragements at one another. _I should have done this years ago_, he mused. _That's how a crew should be, none of this machismo crap. Those two are our future, right there._ A small smile broke free of his normally rough demeanor. This pair was turning out well after all.


	3. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:** Another chapter with some explanation of their current environment and the tensions building. No Rocket yet, I apologize, but I think she'll pop up in next chapter. Creating a world takes more description and explanation than I had initially thought..._

"Shoreline to Base, Shoreline to Base."

"Go ahead, Shoreline."

"Copy that, Base. I just received word from _Sea Witch_; she'll be pulling in within the hour."

"Copy that, Shoreline. Let _Sea Witch_ know that longshoremen will be standing by for their arrival to help unload."

"Affirmative." A short silence followed, as the operator decided whether or not to speak further. "Did I do good, Uncle?"

A warm chuckle transmitted back over the radio waves. "You did great, Danny, now let Captain Squid know he's got help waiting when he arrives, okay?"

"'Kay!-I mean, Affirmative!" The young radio lookout beamed as his fingers flew across the knobs and switches, keying in the maritime frequency that all the surrounding ships used.

"Shoreline to _Sea Witch_, Shoreline to _Sea Witch_, come in _Sea Witch._"

Danny silently counted over the white noise of the static, if no response came within ten seconds, he was supposed to address them again.

Captain Squid's voice crackled to life as he hit seven. "_Sea Witch_ here, go ahead Shoreline."

"Uncle Ray-I mean-Base has cleared you for docking." His dark bushy eyebrows crashed together in a deep furrow as he tried to remember the exact words his uncle had taught him. "…I am to inform you that the longshoremen will be…available to assist you in…unloading…upon your arrival." A sigh of relief squeaked out as he finished reciting his line.

"Roger that Shoreline, prepare for docking."

"Come about, ye scallywags!" Sydney roared at his crew. The stout sailors tugged on the heavy woven lines, safely nestling the large vessel against the rubber bumpers of the dock. Heavily muscled longshoremen trooped out onto the creaking lumber of the pier. They pulled flats of ice with them on hand carts specifically designed for this purpose. The group was tailed by two men, diminutive in stature, but sharply dressed, the city's Accountant and Bursar.

Squid watched from the deck as his crew lined up to form an unloading chain. The men grunted and sweated in the sun as they passed hundred pound tunas from hand to hand. The captain kept a close eye on what he considered to be the weakest link in the chain, wincing every time Rafe or Erin lost a handhold or almost dropped a fish entirely. It was difficult to watch, but the apprentices had to learn sometime.

The Accountant approached him from the pier, clearing his throat in an attempt to gain the captain's attention. Sydney turned his watchful gaze away from his crew and hit the small man with the full intensity of his stare. He hadn't used to dislike coming into port, but that was before they declared the new Capitol in the mountains of Colorado.

The city's previous Accountant had been elected by the people, and his main purpose was to act as an estimator when new goods came into town. He would meet with the new merchant or trades-person and give their goods a numbered value, this value could be used for straight trade in the market, two items worth ten Tokens for one twenty Token item; or for bulk sales, the Bursar would get involved and hand out the requisite number of Petaluma Trade Tokens to the buyer once the seller had received all product. The Tokens could then be used the same way dollars had before the Flooding, to buy any item of your choosing.

But then the new Capitol had been named, and with it came a slew of restrictive new laws, procedures, and Capitol approved administrators, who seemed to crop up like unwanted mushrooms in any prosperous trade city. With those administrators came Capitol Cash, which had a value Petaluma had no control over, and a sudden tax percentage of all items brought into town or made and then sold on open market. Depending on the week, Squid could lose up to forty percent of his catch before he was ever paid for it, and when he was paid, tuna seemed to be worth less in Capitol Cash than it ever had in Petaluma Trade Tokens.

"What's the damage, Simmons?" Squid asked.

Eugene, the Accountant, glanced down at his paperwork, pen still in hand. "Well Quig, you are in luck, this week's Tithe is only twenty percent." He tried a winning smile, which was more of a forced grimace than an expression of happiness.

"Fan-tas-tic!" Sydney lied, clenching his jaw to keep from spitting out what he _really_ thought about the Tithe. "And what's a pound worth today?"

Eugene looked down at his papers again, his eyes scanning the figures. "Five units." He announced.

"Such a boon." Squid commented, his voice saccharin sweet with sarcasm. Tuna had been worth almost twice that when he had set out a fortnight prior. "What's the full weight then?"

The Bursar, Fred Davies, who had disappeared during Sydney's exchange with Simmons, whispered something into the Accountant's ear. "Twenty seven hundred pounds." He said.

Squid grunted at that, a fair haul, but he had hoped this catch would have lasted a whole season, after this setback, he would need to sail out within the next few months.

"Oh wait," Simmons interrupted, "Twenty one fifty after the percentage reserved for the Capitol."

The captain ground his teeth together so hard the veins on his forehead and neck stood out against his sunworn skin. "Eugene, leave." He commanded, his voice icy.

The Accountant stammered something about authority and jurisdiction, but Sydney cut him off.

"Give your totals to the Bursar and go." He reiterated. "We're done here."

Eugene flushed and looked like the was about to pick a fight, but then thought better of it. He angrily turned on his heel and strode back towards the city with short, aggravated movements.

The captain watched him go, his eyes boring a hole through the close knit tweed on the back of his suit.

"Best not to pursue that course any further, captain." The Bursar advised. He carefully stepped across the slim expanse of water onto the deck and dropped a thick canvas bag at Squid's feet. He turned to step off the boat and onto the pier. The bobbing motion shook the bag open, causing a few of the stainless steel coins within to tumble out onto the deck. "Stirring up trouble only breeds more trouble, just take your lot and be happy with it, most are."

"Most aren't responsible for a crew and helping to feed their town, Davies," he countered, "but I'll take that into consideration."

"Please do Squid, I'd hate to see something terrible happen to you..." The Bursar nodded his farewell and then turned to leave, walking steadily away from the captain.

Once the official was out of earshot, Squid called for his apprentices. "Rafe, Erin!"

He waited until he heard their calloused feet skidding across the hardwood, both hurrying to obey, before Sydney started calculating figures in his head. He divided a full crewman's pay in half, and then added a little something for good measure. As the two teenagers screeched to a halt at their destination, the captain picked the bag up off the floor and fished out the requisite denominations. "Here's yer share," he told them, pouring the discs into their outstretched hands. He watched with amusement as their eyes grew as large as the coins he gave them.

"Gosh captain, is this really all ours?" Erin asked, incredulous. Her fingers were clenched tight around the Cash, as if she expected it to disappear at any moment.

"Indeed it is." He told them, watching relief and sudden pride race across their faces.

"And this...this is the amount we get every time?" Rafe wondered aloud.

"No lad, this is your apprentice wage, and this a small catch t'boot." Squid explained.

"Wow." Erin exclaimed, breathless and alight with joy. "You will _definitely_ be seeing more of me, captain, and Rafe too, right?" She looked at her friend, the hope plain in her expression.

"Oh yeah." Rafe agreed. "We'll be back."


	4. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note: **Thanks for the review, I had half of this chapter written already but didn't think anyone was interested in reading this story. Nice catch on Israel, I was so busy doing research on the atomic timeline that I had taken for granted that it hadn't been founded yet. I'll see if I can go back and change the prologue while keeping the plot intact._

Erin could scarce resist running all the way home to share her earnings with her family. Rafe followed behind, snickering every time she forgot herself and bolted a few steps.

"C'mon, let's race," he said with a wink. "I know you want to."

"But you'll win!" Erin accused.

"Only because I'm faster." Rafe said, puffing himself up.

"No," she countered, "it's because your house is closer. So that means..."

"Means what?" Rafe asked.

The sound of loose dirt flying as Erin pelted away meant he'd been duped.

"It means I get a head start!" She shouted back over her shoulder.

Rafe cursed under his breath as he sprinted to catch up. He set into an easy lope, his greater height and longer strides eating up the distance between them. Erin was only a few feet away, dancing just out of his reach, when something caught her attention that made her freeze in her tracks. Too far gone to reduce his speed, Rafe crashed into her, toppling them both to the ground.

"Hey, what gives?" He complained, disentangling his long limbs from hers.

"Look over there." She said, and raised an arm from the dust to point at the unusually busy train station.

Unfamiliar boxcars stamped with the Capitol insignia waited on the tracks. Men in white stood guard while the longshoremen dumped whole tunas, ice and all, through the open doors.

"What are they doing with our fish?" Erin hissed.

"Uhm...taking it?" Rafe said, pointing out the obvious.

"You saw that bag, it only had the town seal on it, the Capitol didn't pay for anything."

"They probably paid the Bursar and the Accountant already, and we just didn't know about it." Rafe was tired of Erin's attitude in all things regarding the Capitol. Her anger had flared hotly ever since their issued Accountant had replaced her father and left him jobless. Since then, she never missed an opportunity to tell him how awful their lives were now that the Capitol was in charge.

"How could they?" Erin asked. "They didn't know how much we were bringing in, and no one from the Capitol showed up with a big sack of Cash when the Accountant was writing up his totals."

Rafe gave up, there was no point arguing with her when she got hold of an issue. He stood up and dusted himself off, holding out a hand to pull Erin up. "Fine, the Capitol came to steal our fish, and it's the first step towards martial law, and soon they'll go to war, draft all the able bodied, and enslave the rest."

"See," she said, a spark in her eyes, "now you see it too, right?"

"Erin," Rafe protested, "I was joking, they're probably doing that Tithe thing that all the adults keep complaining about."

"Oh," she said, her tirade stalled, "I guess you've got a point... But look at how much of it they're taking!" She took his hand and stepped toward the rail cars as she said this, gesturing toward all the partially loaded cars in a broad sweep. This motion caught the attention of one of the Capitol guards.

"Hey!" He shouted, trotting up to them and unshouldering his weapon. "Is there a problem here?"

Erin took a breath, ready to deliver a long winded sermon, but Rafe, sensing real and immediate danger, cut her off.

"No sir, no problem here, we were just admiring our catch." Rafe said, his tone respectful and subdued.

"This is all property of the Capitol." The guard stated, his voice brooking no argument.

Erin started to barge forward, her seething anger threatening to spill forth. Rafe put out an arm in front of her. He was trying his best to keep Erin from an all out confrontation with the guard, who was starting to look at them suspiciously.

"The two of you haven't seen anything...unusual lately, have you?"

"Unusual?

"No strangers show up in town lately?"

"Oh absolutely." Erin replied, managing to break through Rafe's blockade. "We just saw one, in fact."

Now the guard looked intensely interested, he pulled a notepad and pencil out of his shirt pocket and scratched lead to paper.

"Would you care to describe them?" He looked at Erin intently, waiting for a description.

"Tall," she said, "about..." Erin stepped back and raised an arm up into the air. She made a tapping motion just slightly above the pristine dome of the guard's white helmet, "This high," she cocked her head to one side and regarded the Capitol official, "and the same build as you."

A moment of silence as the man scribbled furiously. He finished and then looked up at her, his dark eyes glinting sharply behind shaded lenses. "What was he wearing?" He asked.

"White." Was her immediate response.

The man wrote out a few letters before the full meaning sank in. Erin watched in fascination as fury took over his features. The veins on his neck and forehead stood out, throbbing, and his face purpled with rage as he took in a huge breath to shout.

"Erin," Rafe reacted instantly. Clutching his coins tightly, he used his free hand to grab Erin by the heavy canvas of her clothing and tug her away from the guard, "Run."

The two teenagers sprinted down the path as the first syllables of a command hit the air. Neither one could make out the word, but they knew no good could come of it.

"What the hell was that, Erin?" Rafe asked, panting heavily. His eyes, normally a light sea green, were dark and stormy emeralds.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Erin apologized. "They're so serious, maybe they could use a little humor."

"Erin," Rafe replied, exasperated, "these are Capitol trained attack dogs, what did you think he would do, just laugh it off?"

Erin was abashed, "I thought he'd get angry, sure, but how could I know that he'd call for reinforcements? Anyway..." She paused, praying for her friend's forgiveness and desperate to change the subject. "What was that whole thing about strangers in town?"

"I have no idea," Rafe said, "but if it takes the heat off of us, then the more the merrier." He turned slightly and looked to the sparse forest around them. "We should split up," he suggested, "whatever description he gave is going to include the two of us together."

"You're right." Erin said, "Do you want to take the forest trails, or should I?"

Rafe evaluated her, "Probably you...I'm thinking you made a more lasting impression than I did."

Erin at least had the decency to look ashamed. "Right again." She stepped off the path and moved into the trees, "Give my regards to your family, won't you?"

"Always," Rafe promised, "I know there's at least one person who'll be sad that you're not stopping by today."

"Uggh, I totally forgot." Erin groaned. "Tell Amelia I'll make it up to her, and soon, before the girl gets so big she can't fit through the door." She stuck her arms out and waddled, pantomiming a huge belly.

Rafe had to laugh at her antics, he could never stay mad at Erin for very long. "I will, now get going or that mile long sprint will have been for nothing." He waved her away and watched as she disappeared into the foliage before resuming his trek home.

"Dad?" Erin shouted as she popped her head through the front door, "Danny?"

"EFRINH!" Came the muffled, though enthusiastic response as a lanky boy, still growing into his limbs, rose up from the kitchen table and rushed to hug her.

"Danny!" She laughed, embracing him tightly, "Swallow your food or you'll choke, and then how could I show you my surprise?" Erin took a step back and looked at him, watching his jaw muscles bunch as he took his requisite chews and swallowed. "You're growing like a weed." She reported, as the boy seemed about a head taller than he had been when she left.

"No way," he argued, "I've seen the weeds around here, they're stunted from salt, _I'm_ growing like a sea weed!"

"Okay sea monster," Erin laid a hand on his shoulder and steered him back towards the table, "you wanna see what I got?"

"Uhhh," he pretended to consider it. "Duh, of course I wanna see." He responded, pulling out a chair for her and resuming his place at the table. "Spill." He said.

"Your wish is my command," Erin said as she opened her hands and let the polished coins tumble to the table in a glittering waterfall.

"Holy crap." Danny exclaimed. "That's _all_ yours, for _one_ trip?"

"Oh yeah," Erin bragged, "and Captain Squid said that it was just apprentice pay."

"Wow." Danny agreed. "Did you tell Uncle Ray yet?"

"Nope," Erin said, "You're the first one I came to." She thought for a moment, "Well, except for Rafe, but we got our pay at the same time, so that doesn't count."

"You mean Rafe got this same amount too?" He asked, disbelieving. "Wow, that's gonna help a lot with his Mama and when Amy's baby comes." Danny looked thoughtful, "No wonder everyone wants to go out on the boats. I wish I could be a fisherman." He grumbled.

"Dan-ny," Erin tried to soothe him, her voice singsong, "It's really dangerous out on the open sea, you know that." Both of them were silent for a moment, as they remembered the storm his parents were lost in. "And besides," Erin said, needing to break the melancholy that was threatening to settle over Danny, "you'd be the greenest fisherman there ever was." She swayed back and forth, looked dizzy and clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Erin! I don't get _that_ sick!" He argued.

"_You_ didn't see those waves, my boy, and that was only a small trip, could you imagine the long ones?"

Danny imagined being on a boat for a month straight, rocking on the waves for weeks at a time, he looked a little ill just thinking about it.

"See, you've got a way better job over at the lookout tower." Erin told him. "And besides," she pointed out, "Dad's grooming you to learn all the radio doodads and take over running the town's communications when he's old and curmudgeonly."

"I guess," Danny still looked distraught, "but it doesn't pay like fishing does." He shook his head towards the pile of coins on the table.

"Radio towers don't sink, Danny." Erin pointed out, her voice gentle. "What's on your plate there?" She asked, to distract him.

"Oh, the usual," he responded, "biscuits and smoked cod."

"Weeeeell," Erin said, "why don't you get me a plate of that, and then we'll take some of these coins into town and I'll buy back some of that fish I worked so hard to wrest from the ocean."

"'Kay." Danny said, rising up to grab another plate.

"And mayyyybe we'll spend a few extra coins in the market and get something special for you, what do you think about that?"

In answer, Danny piled her plate twice as high, trying to hide a huge grin while he worked.

The marketplace sprawled across both sides of the roadway leading up to the dock. Each stall flew a different colored flag, the two and three colored bands denoting the vendor's household. Some market stalls specialized solely in one item, but others chose to branch out, becoming a veritable general store in miniature. Erin stopped in front of one of the older shops, Danny in tow. a banner of black and purple snapping in the wind.

"Hullo there. Erin," old man Genner greeted her as they walked in, adjusting the half spectacles precariously perched on his nose as he peered down at her companion, "and is your companion today the young gentleman, Mister Daniel Burns?"

Danny giggled, but rolled his eyes anyway, in the manner of all aloof and serious preteens. "You know me already, Mister Genner."

"Do I?" Genner asked. "It seems to me that my good friend Danny is not nearly so tall or thin as this boy in my shop today."

"Oh, it's Danny." Erin said, laying a sheet of paper out on Genner's counter, "no one else in town is so hideously malformed that even the seagulls caw in fright."

"The seagulls caw at everyone!" Danny retorted, his face flushing with mild embarrassment.

With serious business at hand, Erin let her volley slip and turned her attention to the shop keeper. "I need everything on this list, Genner, the usual month to month supplies." She paused a moment, considering. "I've never thought to ask this, but are there any uh-" Erin fumbled for the word. "Luxury items you have laying about the place? I have a slight abundance of coin and I would love to spend it in your shop."

The old man beamed at her. "For the newly minted fisherwoman, I have just the thing." He disappeared behind a partition in the stall, and returned bearing a sturdy but tattered box.

"What's this?" Erin asked, blowing on the box. A cloud of dust puffed into the air, the light caught the motes, burnishing them to a rich gold as they swirled above them. All of them paused for a moment, taking in the wonder of the sudden golden snowstorm.

Until Danny sneezed.

"Sorry, little man." Erin apologized.

"This, I think," Genner told them, drawing their attention once more, "has been waiting for you, for your whole life." He took the box lid off with a flourish, setting it aside, and gently lifted out the contents.

It was an oilskin coat, the canvas dyed a rich dark brown that reminded Erin of chocolate and smooth driftwood. She put a hand out, asking permission to touch it, and Genner inclined his head. The cotton was smooth and supple underneath her fingertips, despite the garment's obvious age.

"Who was this for?" Erin asked, wanting to know the story behind the coat.

"A sheep herder."

"A what?" Erin and Danny asked in unison.

Genner let out a sigh. "Before you were born, before the flood, this whole area was nothing but smooth hills and vast fields of grassland. There are land animals that live off of grass, cows, goats, sheep..." He paused, making sure they were still following. "The people here used to farm them for meat, the same way you snare fish from the oceans to give us food. In addition to the meat though, sheep would supply wool, and all three animals gave milk."

"What's milk?" Danny was having trouble following all these new words.

"It's a similar substance to what new mothers suckle their babes with."

Erin made a face.

"Gross." Danny said. "Why would they want that?"

"You can make other things out of it," Genner explained, "like cheese."

"Really?" Erin asked, remembering an extremely expensive wedge of something that had turned up at the house when her father was still working. "Dad brought some home once, Pam Reason, he called it." Her brow furrowed, crinkling up her nose in memory. "It was salty, and strange, but I liked it."

Genner chuckled heartily at that, his eyes twinkling. "Parmesan, it was, and that's just one of hundreds. There are as many kinds of cheeses as there are fish in the sea, or at least there were." He allowed. "With trade the way it is now, we have no way of knowing if there are any herding and farming Districts left."

"Only the Capitol knows." Erin said, with a grudge in her voice.

"Aye, and they're not telling," Genner brought their attention back to the story at hand, "but this tale, and this coat, is something the Capitol knows nothing about."

Those words were magic itself, Genner had ensnared her complete attention.

"Who were they?" She asked.

"I don't know their full identity," he said, "but judging by the size of this coat, and the fact that herdsfolk and fisherfolk apprentice about the same time, I'd say this herder was a girl, Erin, a girl just like you."

"You don't know that," Erin accused, "they could have just been a small, skinny boy."

"Perhaps, but there's one more artifact within this coat." He reached into one of the inner, protected pockets, and drew out a small, slim volume.

Erin's eyes went wide as she saw the object, which she had never thought to behold in her lifetime. What few books had survived the flood were quickly snatched up by the Capitol and resided there, or with the super elite who could afford to buy them back. Erin's knowledge of them had only existed in the stories told from the time before the flood. "A book." She whispered, reverently.

The book was well worn, but still in good condition. Someone had taken great care to keep it safe, despite the obvious wear marks that meant it had been read hundreds of times. Genner tilted the cover up to her, the remaining flakes of gold leaf shone from their nests of embossed leather.

_The Curious Adventures of the Lady Jane_

Erin's fingers groped in her pocket, searching out an amount of coins that would neither break her, nor offend the generous shopkeeper. She set the metal disks on the table, bracing herself for what came next.

"I'll buy it." She said, and hoped that it was true.


End file.
